Mata Hari is a television mini-series set in
Europe and Java from 1882 to 1917.
From a pampered childhood upended by her
father's sudden bankruptcy. . . through a
ruinous marriage to an abusive alcoholic.
From the brutal murder of her infant son
and rise to fame as exotic dancer. . . to her
ill-fated attempts to spy for France.
This is the compelling true story of Mata
Hari. . . a tragic life of sex and romance,
of glamor, history and intrigue.
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Courtesy Fries Museum/Mata Hari Collection
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Sample Pages 
FADE IN:
EXT. STREET -- DAY
Battle-weary FRENCH SOLDIERS plod through the rubble
of a bombed-out street. A police car pushes through.
Inside, flanked by POLICEMEN, sits MATA HARI, worriedly
peering out the window.
EXT. SAINT-LAZARE PRISON
The ancient fortress stands bleak and grey in the morning
light. SENTRIES huddle against the bitter cold.
A gate swings open and the car turns in.
TITLE--"FRANCE, 1917"
INT. COURTYARD
Prison OFFICIALS meet the car as Mata Hari steps out.
She is tall and dark and vaguely exotic. At age 40 her
beauty is just beginning to fade, and beneath her furs
and jewelry lies a growing apprehension.
As she crosses the courtyard three officers watch her
closely. She glares contemptuously at CAPTAIN GEORGES
LADOUX and CAPTAIN PIERRE BOUCHARDON, but is stunned
to see Lt. JEAN HALLAURE in their midst. He in turn
strives to look away.
MATA HARI
Jean--?
INT. CELL BLOCK
Rusted doors close off a dingy CELL BLOCK. The doors
burst open and Mata Hari marches in with her escort.
She strides down the CORRIDOR, arousing FEMALE PRISONERS
who reach through their cell bars to touch her clothing.
Two nuns, SISTER LEONIDE and young SISTER MARIE, stand
before an open cell.
CLOSE ON SISTER MARIE
MARIE (V. O.)
"She came to us on a cold morning
in February. I remember waiting by
her cell door, watching her stride
down the corridor toward us: this
most magnificent creature, tall and
proud and so very elegantly dressed,
as if bound for the opera house and
not our own miserable Saint-Lazare."
Mata Hari hesitates, then steps inside.
Leonide locks the door and all march away, except Marie,
who peeks into the cell.
MARIE (V. O.)
"I thought then she was the most
beautiful woman I had ever seen."
EXT. PRISON -- NIGHT
Grey stone walls reflect the light of gas lamps.
INT. CELL
Mata Hari paces her cell, struggling to keep warm.
INT. CORRIDOR
Sister Leonide and Sister Marie deliver dinner trays.
MARIE (V. O.)
"There were two of us in charge of
Mata Hari, Sister Leonide and myself.
Understand, I was quite young then.
I had been raised in the convent, had
seen very little of the world. I was,
to say the least, impressionable."
INT. CELL
Leonide enters, followed by Marie carrying a tray.
MARIE (V. O.)
"But for old Sister Leonide, it was
different. Much different, and as
I was to learn in time, so very much
harder."
Marie offers the tray to Mata Hari.
LEONIDE
The prisoner will receive two meals,
one in the morning--
MATA HARI
I demand to speak to someone in
authority.
LEONIDE
They will come when they are ready.
MATA HARI
When will that be?
LEONIDE
Two meals. In the morning, and again
in the evening.
MATA HARI
It's freezing in here! I can't even
lie down--this cot's infested!
LEONIDE
We are not responsible for prison
conditions. Take your tray.
MATA HARI
I won't eat this slop!
She knocks the tray from Marie's hands; Marie starts
to retrieve it.
LEONIDE
Leave it. Is there anything the
prisoner requires?
MATA HARI
My freedom.
Leonide moves to the door.
MATA HARI
Wait. I require a bath.
LEONIDE
There are no baths at Saint-Lazare.
(glancing at the food)
It is the prisoner's responsibility
to keep her cell clean.
INT. CELL -- MORNING
Light streaks in through a narrow window.
Mata Hari watches a rat attacking her spilled food.
A HORSE NEIGHS, and she wanders to the window.
POV--COURTYARD
As SOLDIERS unload a wagon, the horse stomps his hooves
upon the cobblestones.
CLOSE ON MATA HARI
Remembering. . .
MATCH DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. ZELLE HOUSE -- DAY
CLOSE ON M'GREET (AGE 6)
. . . eyes closed, face beaming.
ZELLE (O. S.)
Careful now. No peeking, M'greet.
One more step. . . No peeking!
ANTJE leads her daughter down from their comfortable
middle-class house.
TITLE--"HOLLAND, 1882"
ANTJE
All right. You may open your eyes.
ZELLE holds the reins to a pair of goats hitched to a
small, ornate buggy. The restless goats stomp their
hooves upon the cobbled street.
ANTJE
Thank your father properly, M'greet.
He built this with his own hands.
M'GREET
I love you, Papa!
ZELLE
Happy birthday, poppie.
She jumps into the buggy, startling the goats--
ANTJE
Careful M'greet!
M'GREET
Let go, Papa!
ANTJE
M'greet, no! Adam, stop her--!
--and she races off, nearly running down a NEIGHBOR.
He shakes his fist at Zelle, who only laughs harder.
EXT. TOWN
The rattling of wheels upon cobblestone, the clomping
of hooves and M'greet's uncontrolled screaming, all
bring TOWNFOLK rushing to their doors and windows.
Parcels spill, mouths fall open, scandalized MOTHERS
turn their CHILDREN's heads away, as M'greet drives
wildly through town--her long black tresses freely
flowing down the back of her red velvet dress.
Copyright © 2006 by Dennis Keeler
